Trying to Find a Light
by AmandaEchelon
Summary: Like ships in the night, they kept passing each other by. Not out of fear, for she didn't know him to fear him like everyone else. He in return never would have noticed her existence...that is until fate or destiny threw them on the same path.
1. Apology

**Title:** Trying to Find a Light

**Rating: **M

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters, names, places, anything from World Wrestling Entertainment Inc. I do not own any songs that come up in this story, they are chosen from shuffling my iTunes or one that simply pops into my head. Those will be the chapter titles in case there is any confusion.

**A/N: ** I really have to thank ultimatexbarbie for being the muse behind this story and for giving me the privilege to write it. Obviously it has been some time since I wrote anything, years in fact. But most of that has a good reason attached. Really though, the inspiration from her video about these two hit me like a Mac truck. I wanted to beg her for the opportunity to write it, but didn't want to come off like a total looney tune. So anyways this is for her and for anybody who just finds this pair as amusing as I do. I will try to regularly update once a week if possible. Enjoy. :)

* * *

_It was the sweetest ambrosia he had ever felt. How was it possible? His mind flew back to the first time he had ever constricted his hand into a fist, white knuckles resulting from how tight he held his fingers in his palm. He drew back and then made contact with the face of a bully he had finally had enough of. That was the first time he ever hit someone. The first time he felt an engaging power surge through his body. The first time he drew blood and felt it trickling down his fingers and forearm. He never knew he possessed such strength within himself to do such a thing. But he liked it and relished in the rush it gave him every time. The happiness that surged through him every damn time he was pummeling someone. _

_So what the hell was happening now? _

_He pulled back gently, afraid to open his eyes. His hands never the leaving the small of her slender tan skinned back. So soft, like a feather, gentle, and to be caressed rather than beaten. He had never felt this way, so out of breath like after a strenuous cardio routine from just a simple intimate endeavor he had no idea he was capable of. She had asked him a question, hadn't she? Right. He needed to answer her. Rather than thinking of something plausible however, he couldn't, he could only say the first thought that entered his mind. _

"_I never thought it was a possibility," he finally uttered, more for himself then for her. Suddenly he felt relieved, and though it puzzled him even more he liked the feeling. The weight of the world disappearing from his shoulders that he didn't even know he possessed. He was being honest…brutally honest in fact. He always was though. He never lied because he didn't see the point. He wasn't raised to, though he understood human beings often had the choice too if the situation arose. But he never did. Getting lost in his mind further perhaps he was a hundred percent sure he didn't lie to anyone; however he never considered the possibility that he could have lied to himself._

"_The thought never really crossed your mind?" she questioned, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. His façade had never broken in the brief time that she knew him, or rather knew 'of' him. He always carried himself above others. Always believed he was the best and maybe that could be the underlying reason why he was so successful. Because he had mastered psychology, believe you're the best and you will be. She knew he truly believed that, his confidence being one of the few things she could admire about him. In the back of her mind however there were some things she couldn't.  
_

* * *

_One month earlier…_

Everything was supposed to be perfect.

Things were supposed to come easy for her. The perfect high metabolism combined with intense workouts and a healthy diet were what gave her a sculpted to die for body.

The make-up she wore was always perfect. Highlighting her features rather than hiding them. She'd be stunning with or without it.

That perfect bleach blonde waterfall of locks that fell down her back was the envy of every woman and the pleasure of any man who ever got a chance to smell it let alone touch it.

Even her damn nails were the picture of perfection with white acrylics the same shade as the teeth within her perfect smile.

Everything was supposed to be perfect.

Everything.

Sadly, Kelly Kelly was beginning to believe she would never have that perfect world. Maybe she was just unlucky and showed up in the wrong place at the wrong damn time. She had a knack for that and it was the most fucking annoying thing about her. The sense of timing was always off. Had she walked back to the locker room a few minutes earlier, or hell a few later, maybe she could have saved herself.

But no because Kelly Kelly had to have the worst timing…always!

Before her eyes, locked in a tight, passionate embrace was her best friend Eve Torres and her boyfriend, John Cena.

She wanted to vomit. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. Anything. Anything than what she was currently doing. Standing there watching the pair engaged in a game of tonsil hockey. The same thing she had been doing only a mere twenty four hours before she arrived in the windy city of Chicago, leaving John to drive from their previous location while she caught a flight.

"_I'll be seeing you in Chicago baby," _he had said with a pleased grin after lightly touching her lips with his a final time before releasing her to board the plane.

"_I'll be seeing you."_

Surely God was not so cruel to give her the destiny of what she was witnessing currently. Little did she know however that there was another set of eyes watching the scene play out, and watching her reaction.

She was cold as stone.

Fucking Hell!


	2. Yellow

**Title: **Trying to Find a Light

**Rating: **M

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters, names, places, anything from World Wrestling Entertainment Inc. I do not own any songs that come up in this story, they are chosen from shuffling my iTunes or one that simply pops into my head. Those will be the chapter titles in case there is any confusion.

**A/N:** Well, here we go, chapter two. I know there was no house show in Chicago before Wrestlemania so don't worry I haven't lost it. This chapter is more or less to give a little insight into Brock's talks with officials on making a return. It's not a truly fun chapter, in fact, it is relatively boring, but it's here to get the point across. Don't worry I will deliver Brock/Kelly juiciness in the next chapter.

Brock Edward Lesnar was a practical individual.

At six foot three inches and two hundred and sixty six pounds Brock Lesnar liked routine and very rarely did he ever deviate from that routine. So when the phone rang in the early morning on March 30th, 2012 he simply knew his routine for the day had just went out the window. Normally he would have begun his first strenuous workout for the day. This time however was different. As he dressed in his typical morning attire of black sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and a pair of running shoes, the annoying sound of his cellphone buzzed from across the room. He had turned that off. Just like he did every night.

Didn't he?

He shook his head wanting to get on with the day's work he was soon to face.

He had absolutely no idea why he took the phone call and in hearing the voice on the other hand he wished he hadn't.

"Hello Brock. My name is John Laurinaitis."

Brock pulled the phone from his ear nearly squeezing it into dust and tilted his head away from it, shutting his eyes trying to maintain his composure.

"Hello? Hello? Brock?" The raspy voice questioned on the other end of the line.

"_Hang up the phone, hang up the phone."_ He didn't. Steadying his breath so he wouldn't make the General Manager of Raw go deaf with his hate-filled screams this early in the morning Brock braced himself and responded in typical Lesnar fashion.

"What do you want?"

He could feel the other man smiling on the other end, making him grimace.

"It's funny you should ask Brock. Seems that great minds think alike and I was just about to ask you the same thing."

He had no right to utter those words. No right to compare himself to the greatness that was Brock Lesnar and his astounding career. Laurinaitis had no idea what it was like to be Brock Lesnar, no one did.

"I don't have time for games so why don't you get on with what you want before I hang up."

A chuckle on the other end made him ball his hand into a fist. He hated being laughed at, much more so now that it was in that creepy tone of this man.

"I can see you're still the get business done type so I'll get on with it then. What I want from you Brock Lesnar…is to make a comeback."

It was Brock's turn to chuckle. "Ha. A comeback to what exactly? Let me guess, you want me to save the company that offered me no challenge eight years ago, right? The same company that is slowly decaying because you can't do any better than some wannabe hustlers that give a wink and a smile to its fans and suddenly their falling to their knees ready to blow them on sight? _That_ company has become a joke, and I don't want any part of a comedy skit."

"You're absolutely right Brock," Laurinaitis said in agreement, "but seeing as the day after tomorrow I'm expecting to become sole manager of the Raw and Smackdown brands it means there will be changes. This is no Comedy Central hour Brock, this is the real deal. It's time to get back to the way things were. This isn't about pleasing the fans anymore; it's about making a statement, shaking things up a big. Bringing the pain…no one knows that better than you, Brock Lesnar."

Brock rolled his eyes. This guy obviously couldn't take the hint. He had moved passed all of the 'entertainment' glamour that the WWE offered its audience. He had engaged in real fights. Succeeded in those fights to become UFC Heavyweight Champion. There was no need for pretending, his decision was final.

"No thanks Laurinaitis," he responded, "find somebody else to be the hero cause I sure as hell ain't it." Ready to remove the phone from his ear he only got a fraction away before hearing the 'future' general manager's plea.

"Wait! Wait! Wait a minute!" Letting out a sigh Brock complied to put the phone back to his ear, slightly enjoying the desperation in the man's voice. "Brock they're so many things we can offer you. Don't you understand that? You'd be the new face of World Wrestling Entertainment! You could bring back the era that got lost when you left eight years ago Brock. Everything is changing, and once that final pinfall gets counted at Wrestlemania 28 this Sunday those changes can finally be set in motion. We have nowhere to go but up from here Brock."

"Why the fuck do you need me to help you then?" He shouted.

"Because…" he paused, obviously trying to find the words to make up for his pathetic speech, "you're Brock Lesnar…and there is no one that knows how to make a bigger impact then you."

Sighing Brock shook his head ready to just hang up on all the bullshit he was hearing. "Think about this if you need time to make a decision; I'll fly you out to the show tomorrow, all expenses paid. We're doing a house show in Chicago. You can get reacquainted with your former buddies, walk around, remember the atmosphere. Enjoy yourself. I'll provide you with whatever you want. I'm not going to rush you for an answer Brock; I know that's not how you operate. I'm simply asking you to consider the idea of being the savior of the WWE."

Brock fell silent. He fell silent in shock of the man's audacity and in memory. The memory of why he left all those years ago. He hated watching the whole dog and pony show occur every damn day. Year after year, week after week on the WWE shows all he saw were good men lose out on chances and profit so that Vince McMahon could make the fans happy. He not only sold the heart of the business, of the sport of wrestling itself, he had sold its soul. And for what? Guys like John Cena? He'd been watching the shows progress since he left. Saw Cena rise and fall time and time again, only to hate him more for taking the spotlight of others. Not himself. But others who probably deserved it more. The idea that the only person in that company that could be WWE Champion was John Cena sickened him week after week while watching the show.

Now he was faced with a dilemma. Let Lauranaitis figure out his own problems and continue down his path solo or go back and save the company that proved to be nothing more than a circus with people like John Cena on the main stage.

Hell, why not think about it on a free vacation at the future new boss' expense.

"No." He said flatly and hung up the phone.


	3. Wish You Were Here

**Title:** Trying to Find a Light

**Rating:** M

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters, names, places, anything from World Wrestling Entertainment Inc. I do not own any songs that come up in this story, they are chosen from shuffling my iTunes or one that simply pops into my head. Those will be the chapter titles in case there is any confusion.

**A/N: **Doodie Do Do Do. Oh! Hello there…yeah…been about a month since I've update huh? (Scratches back of neck) Well…on with the show.

Numb: deprived of physical sensation or the ability to move; incapable of action or feeling emotion; and indifferent.

If she had to guess, that would probably be what she was feeling right now.

Cold. Motionless. She was stuck, unmoving, just staring at the scene in front of her as it played out. Eve, with her boyfriend's hands tangled in her hair, tugging lightly. Lips smacking against each other with passion. Tongues dueling. Hands roaming and scratching at each other.

The logical part of her mind that was still operating had a feeling based on the intensity of the two that this had been going on for awhile. They looked like lovers reunited after years apart, missing each other's touch. She should say something. Anything. But she just stood there, kept watching, waiting, wondering what would happen when they noticed her and they would in due course.

Finally, they pulled apart and gazed into each other's eyes. Spying his and the look he conveyed to her, it was the look of love. She knew that look…she had earned that look. His sparkling blue eyes boring into hers, he had been so beautiful in that moment that she wished it could go on forever. But watching him share that look with someone else was enough to make her vomit her insides out. Her breathing became labored as she tried to control herself for fear of lashing out. She gasped back her tears.

Upon hearing the sound of her whimper John's eyes landed behind Eve on her frail form and his smile quickly shifted to a shocked expression.

"John?" Eve questioned and followed his line of vision behind her to her blonde friend, "Oh my God."

"Kelly," he said, waking her from the numb state. Her heart pounded in her chest at her name falling from his lips. Surely it would burst at this scene playing out. Her throat swelled tight enough to knock the wind out of her lungs. Her body locked in place becoming immobile, bones constricting enough that they should break. She said nothing; there were not words for a moment like this.

She forced her eyes from his hold on them with his sad blue ones. Gracefully she moved one foot at a time behind her, realizing that the pair was too stunned to say a word as to the scene before her she simply turned on her heal giving them the vision of the golden waterfall locks that fell down her back and watched as it shrank in the distance.

Rounding the corner, had she cared enough to wonder, Kelly locked her hazel eyes with a deeper blue eye color and six foot three figure. She slowed her pace as she stared at the blonde haired man pausing in her retreat from the betrayal that she had just witnessed. It may have only been a few seconds but finally she disengaged herself from the trance this man held and continued past him so she could gather her things and leave the arena.

She had more important things to worry about and there was no way Brock Lesnar had cared enough to notice the situation unfold like she did. However in the very back of her mind she wondered why was he there in the first place?

* * *

Brock smirked as he walked through the halls of the arena. That familiar feeling creeping up his back and tingling his spinal cord bit by bit, one of satisfaction coupled with giddiness. No, it wasn't due to the fact that he was back in the WWE or that he reacquainted himself with old colleagues. Those were normal feelings a former wrestler and champion would feel and Brock Lesnar was not normal by any means necessary, at least to everyone else. It was the power, the shocked expression's on the faces of the crew as he passed by, more than anything however, it was the sick pleasure he got from knowing that John Laurinaitis had no idea that he was present.

Yes he had declined his offer of traveling, arriving, and enjoying his time in style but he hated those things. Brock never felt the need to accept any offer where he felt he would owe the individual something in return. Plus it was more enjoyable to fuck with Johnny Dickhead's brain in all honesty. He didn't like the arrogance the general manager displayed on the show or in his phone call to him. From watching the program in the recent months it was clear that no one else did either. Brock was always the curious type, cat-like qualities rested in his nature, quiet and mysterious like a house feline but ferocious as a lion when it came to sport. He'd been watching things develop between the superstars on both brands and though he found things tedious as far as action in the ring, it was somewhat amusing the squabbles between superstars.

"_This is ridiculous,"_ he thought to himself. Laurinaitis wanting him to come back to such a place of boredom, he could make an impact sure but then what? He'd grow weary of the constant travel and exposure to the media. But there was also the simple fact that no one was up to his caliber. No one important enough to concern himself with in this company, no one could beat Brock Lesnar, and for once there was no one here he wanted to pummel.

Jostling him from his thoughts he heard a shriek as the rounded the next corner of the hall and stopped at the sight of a blonde wavy hair about five feet ahead of him. She wasn't talking to anyone, just simply seemed to be staring at something. He looked beyond the blonde locks and trained his eyes to what looked like a couple embracing. He recognized the man, a joke to him; he'd watched the young man's career take off after he left, John Cena. John Cena with his arms wrapped around another woman. Tan skin, curled light brown hair, and a slender frame. Eve Torres he remembered. Watching the show over the past couple of weeks he noticed this woman was gaining all kinds of attention from the male locker room, though the trivial pursuits of the other men were of severe disinterest to him.

He couldn't place the blonde in front of him though and he tried with all his might to jog his memory of the delectable backside in front of him. That was until he noticed she seemed to be shaking. Why he wasn't quite sure. He looked back at the couple embracing in a breath-stealing kiss, they seemed happy and content, but why was the mystery blonde still watching and seemingly seething at the sight.

Quicker than he anticipated she started backing toward his direction never turning to reveal her face causing him to back around the corner he turned. He waited, confused as to why, the only thing he knew was that he had to see her face. He had to make sense of what he just witnessed. Damn that curious nature inside him!

He didn't regret possessing the quizzical nature the moment she rounded the corner. Time seemed to stand still in that moment as she passed. They locked eyes, hazel upon blue and blue upon hazel. She was beautiful. Delicate. Almond shaped eyes either side of a small nose and poised pink lips. She stopped forcing all those moments prior to click into place. The pain in her eyes, a broken heart, a betrayal, and seething anger that caused her shaky form.

Kelly Kelly. He knew her. Watched her rise through the ranks of the Diva's division in the company, this woman has conquered mountains. But based on the site of what had to be her boyfriend, John Cena, and her fellow employee Eve, anonymous to him her best friend, she was angrier than the devil with an angel face. They just stood staring at each other for a moment; he saw all of the hurt she seemed to be feeling in her eyes.

It was over sooner than expected and she continued her journey down the hall.

"What do we do?" His ears perked up back to the former happily embracing couple now engaging in conversation instead of shoving their tongues down each other's throats.

"I don't know," Cena said, "I need to talk to her."

"John…" Eve cooed, "Give her some time; it was bound to happen eventually." Brock's brows furrowed at the other woman's comment. Obviously trying to justify the situation to her newly single lover.

"Maybe…but come on Eve," he reasoned, possibly more to himself than to her, "she didn't deserve to find out this way." She nodded in response, seemingly understanding the situation at present and placed her hands on his chest.

"We'll tell her next week-"

"No." He retorted with a bit more force. "I'll do it…I need to do this…on my own."

She inhaled surprised he wanted to take on such a task. She was her friend too. But nodded in agreement. "Okay baby."

He watched as they walked away hand in hand. Content in one another for the evening…for what they had just done to their friend. Someone they probably claimed to love. He'd never understand the audacity of people like that but he also didn't understand why he cared. The situation wasn't his business; he had to look out for himself. Number one. Brock Lesnar. He couldn't be bothered with such 'romantic' situations like the one he just witnessed and so he pushed away from the wall he was propped on and walked. To where he wasn't sure, he just continued on down the hall until he found an exterior door leading to the parking lot. Pushing the steel clamp down he made his way through the door and once more was forced to pause by the swift movements of Kelly Kelly's blonde hair approaching what seemed to be her rented vehicle. She opened the driver's side door and climbed in bringing the engine to life and speeding away with what he could only understand as pure adrenaline.

What woman wouldn't want to be anywhere but here?

He placed his hands on his hips beginning to pace the parking lot. He was plagued with ideas, but more than that he was confused as to why he felt what he did. Brock was never one to really think of another's well-being beyond his family or himself, he was also never one to really take time to contemplate a situation either.

He whipped out his cellphone and hit the redial, upon hearing it answered he interjected before the speaker had a chance to greet his call appropriately. "You want an impact?" He questioned. "Next week," he paused, for dramatic effect of course, "you got it," and pressed the end call.


	4. Knockout

**Title:** Trying to Find a Light

**Rating:** M

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters, names, places, anything from World Wrestling Entertainment Inc. I do not own any songs that come up in this story, they are chosen from shuffling my iTunes or one that simply pops into my head. Those will be the chapter titles in case there is any confusion.

**A/N: **Okay this chapter should be filled with enough juicy Brock/Kelly goodness to last you until the next chapter comes along. By the way, keep a look out for my newest fanfiction coming soon called "All Fall Down," I'll give you more details later because I'm not sure of it yet but it will be a CM Punk/AJ fanfiction. Hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

The crowd erupted as John Cena made his way to the ring. The man was adored, admired, and loved by the fans to a certain caliber she wasn't sure she possessed at all. Watching backstage she curled into herself on the couch bringing her knees to a chest, providing a hard resting space for her chin. He looked so in his element that you couldn't help but hang onto every word and even a week later she still was drawn to his presence in the ring.

Watching him grab a microphone from the ringside attendant, she waited anxiously for him to say whatever he needed to say to the fans. She guessed he was going to cut a promo for an upcoming match or maybe comment on the way Johnny Ace was ruining Raw. She expected anything other than what he was about to say.

"I fucked up," he explained.

Kelly bolted out of her position on the couch. _What did he just say on live television?_

"You heard me right, I fucked up." The fans seemed to murmur to themselves; obviously they were full of as much shock as she was. "There is someone in the back that I need to apologize to for my actions guys, and I want her to join me in the ring so I can have the opportunity to plead my case to her."

_Oh no he was not!_ She thought to herself. He was not pulling this stunt. He most certainly wasn't asking her to come out there in the middle of the squared circle and explain such a betrayal. No. There was absolutely no way. Dear God, let this be a dream.

"So, if you wouldn't mind Kelly…please come to the ring." This wasn't a dream, this was a nightmare. Her body moved of its own accord. She had no idea why her legs lifted off the couch and her feet began moving towards the gorilla. The familiar music of Desiree Jackson filled her ears as 'Holla' played. She walked slowly not revealing herself just yet. She needed to gather herself first or else she'd surely begin to cry.

Taking a deep breath she began her walk out onto the ramp. She tuned out the cheers of the fans, they didn't understand, sure the support was welcome but they didn't have an earthly idea of the pain she felt in descending that ramp toward the ring. She tried to keep her breathing even and her face stoic.

Bending between the ropes and straightening herself, she took one last look at the mat beneath her feet then placing her hands on her hips she looked into the eyes of her boyfriend…ex-boyfriend, nearly losing her composure.

"Kelly," he began, "I…I…," obviously he didn't have the words to begin whatever excuse he had as to why he would be making out with her former best friend, "I'm sorry, you have to understand this is hard for me." His eyes were pleading with her, begging for some form of understanding. Her own eyes, he noticed, didn't convey any type of emotion whatsoever.

"I know you're angry. I know I don't deserve forgiveness from you, but I never meant for any of this to happen Kelly." She rolled her eyes and raised a hand to the back of her neck and began rubbing it so she could resist the urge to slap him. "We just fell for each other…Eve and I…neither of us meant to hurt you." The crowd began to convey a negative response clueing into what had transpired.

Hearing enough she moved to grab a microphone from the ring attendant. She was going to give him a piece of her mind, she was going to yell, scream, cry, and bitch. Whatever she wanted to say was going to come out so much she hoped to make him cry with her words. They crowd was getting into it as well ready for the verbal lashing she was about to deliver.

John looked across the ring at her, clapping…the smug bastard, encouraging her to say whatever she wanted because deep down he knew he deserved it. If that's what he wanted then that is what he'd get. She brought the microphone to her lips ready with a retort. Then something happened…nothing came out.

All the anger she felt, it just wasn't coming. She was ready, she had thought of what she'd say to him had she gotten the opportunity to speak to him again. She wanted to call him everything in the book and here she was chocking. She lowered the microphone, taking in a deep and shaky breath.

_You can do this Kelly, he deserves some humiliation, just remember what you told yourself._

She daringly raised the microphone again-

Drums.

Everything seemed to be going in slow motion. Drums. She heard drums. What was that sound? Her eyes searched for John seeing his profile in her vision gazing off up the ramp. Following his eyes her own orbs widened at the sight.

Brock Lesnar was standing at the top. Dressed in black sweatpants, sneakers, and a t-shirt with the sleeves cut. His alabaster skin and pale blonde hair glowed underneath the lights of the arena. The WWE Universe had erupted; she had never heard such volume from the audience be achieved in her time here. One man had caused such a reaction. They loved him more than anyone in her mind as she heard the cheers and positive uproar. But as he made his way to the ring he invoked a different reaction out of her. Closer and closer he came as he descended the ramp pausing just at the front. His eyes connecting with hers, she felt fear, why there was no telling. But as he began to climb up the steel steps and make his way through the ropes she cowered into the corner lowering herself, grasping the bottom rope so that she could use the leverage to make a quick escape.

She wasn't an idiot. She knew the destructive force that was Brock Lesnar and more importantly she knew he didn't care for anyone and would beat down anyone in his path for no reason at all. Her heart raced making her breathing labored as he disengaged his eyes from hers and turned his gaze onto John Cena.

John seemed just as surprised as she was but of course he held his ground. Six three and two hundred and sixty six pounds was no joke mess around with. But of course, she couldn't insure that John would take the situation seriously. He was clapping!

_My God John what the fuck are you doing?_ She'd mentally slapped him in her mind since she couldn't obtain the strength to move from her crouched position in a corner of the ring. She always admired that John had faith in people and truly appreciated every WWE Superstars talents but seriously, he was looking for a death wish.

Apparently John's clapping wasn't the only crazy thing happening. Brock had extended his hand to John. John had glanced at the outstretched hand Brock had offered him. Maybe there was a possibility of peace with 'The Next Big Thing.' Their hands clasped together in the age old tradition of respect, honor, and brotherhood.

Kelly was beside herself feeling a knot building in the pit of her stomach. Another man coming to humiliate her. To applaud John for cheating on her with Eve. She felt tears begin to form making her blue eyes shine with the flooding water. She felt her life crumbling around her, bringing her gaze to glare at John then shifting to the blonde-headed man only to see that he was already looking at her.

This time her world sped up a few notches and the next few moments seemed to blend. Locking eyes with her he winked and brought John over his shoulder. She heard his roar, like a lion, it was unmistakable as he brought him down hitting the F5.

Bringing himself back up to his feet he walked to stand just over John's face and glared out at the audience. His theme music played. Those drums filling her ears again. He turned his attention back to her, never fully facing her, just staring over his shoulder. That fear began to rise again as she breathed harder. She hadn't been this frightened since Kharma had stalked to ring with her cruel gaze.

The difference in the situation however surprised her. Kharma's eyes had been full of mischief and malice while Brock's…well, she didn't know what that look was.

He didn't attack, he just left. Kelly shook her head obviously missing him leave the ring and stared at his fleeting form walking back up the ramp. Her gaze lingered over to John's helpless body lying unmoving on the mat.

_Okay, what the hell just happened?_

* * *

The air was cool in Miami that night prompting Brock to put on a thin black hoodie as he walked to his hotel from the American Airlines Arena. He loved walking long distances at night, it relaxed him, eased his mind from events of the day. And boy did he need the relaxation from what he had just done at the venue for Raw. He hit John Cena with his finisher and for what? He was still trying to figure that out.

As he neared the hotel he decided a drink was in order for this evening. Upon entering the lobby he remembered there being a bar off to the side of the check-out counter. As he made his way through the lobby he found a bar stool and hopped right up signaling for the bartender.

She was a stunning brunette with light brown eyes and nodded signaling she'd be with him in a moment. Brock clasped his hands together rubbing them gently waiting for the girl to make her way down the bar-back wiping it down with a rag as the made the journey. He wasn't going to lie, she was attractive but he had more important things to worry about.

She stopped in front of him, tilting her head to the side, arms wide open as she the clutched the rag in her left hand. "Rough night big guy?" She questioned earning a chuckle from Brock.

"Nope, not really," he replied in good humor. This girl seemed brave.

"Well then, what can I get for you?"

"Whiskey and coke, low on the coke."

"Sure thing handsome." Brock blinked his surprise, forget brave, this girl was bold. As she turned her back to him she began making conversation.

"I'm Erika in case you were wondering," she said grabbing the whiskey off the back shelf covered in bottles of various liquors, beers, and glasses. "What do they call you?"

"Does it really matter?" He questioned back.

"Not really, but I make it a point to know who I'm serving this late. Usually the only people coming to the bar of this hotel are either meeting a lover or just getting through doing something incredibly stupid." She began pouring the rough liquid into the glass before grabbing the coke nozzle and filling it up the rest of the way. She turned back to him and set the glass down on a coaster placing a straw in his drink.

"Brock."

She smiled, "Suits you, rock solid muscle and all. I was expecting Rocky or something." She'd earned another chuckle.

"So which is it?" She questioned as he took the first hard gulp of his drink.

"Which is what?" He questioned back running his tongue over his lips to remove the remaining whiskey.

"Which reason do you have for being here? Lover or stupidity?"

Brock shook his head and smiled, "Neither."

"Well whatever your reasoning I'm glad you stopped by, gets pretty lonely down here working the night shift, not many people come in here, and if they do they're either jerks or too grabby. With you hear I don't think they'll be coming in." He gulped down the rest of the drink locking eyes with her and pushing the glass her way. This time Erika shook her head and smiled. She got the hint that he wanted another.

"Why do you work this late?" It was his turn to question, he found this girl intriguing and amusing, plus she knew how to make a good whiskey and coke.

This time she made the drink in front of him when replying, she shrugged, "Pays the bills and it's not a bad gig, I still get paid even if tips are scarce." He nodded in response, another woman doing what she had to do to survive. That made him think of the petite blonde huddled in the corner of the ring tonight, true fear in her eyes.

"Enough about me though," his thoughts were interrupted by Erika placing another drink in front of him, "I want to know about you. More importantly I want to know why you lied to me."

Brock looked back into her eyes shocked at her accusation. What had he lied to her about? If there was one thing he hated in the word it was to be called a liar.

"What are you talking about?" He questioned.

"Remember earlier I told you that the only people that come into this hotel bar this late are either waiting for a lover or have just done something incredibly stupid?"

He nodded, remembering the ridiculous question she asked earlier.

"Well the way I see it," she leaned as close as she could and directed her gaze over his shoulder, "there's a gorgeous blonde woman standing at the entrance staring at your back and darling looks like she either wants to scratch it or she's scared to come up here because you went and did something stupid."

He turned his eyes widening seeing that Erika was right, the slender and tan blonde form of Kelly Kelly stood at the bar door seemingly trying to gather her courage as she slowly made her way toward the bar.

He turned back to see that the brunette was retreating to the other end of the bar to clean some drinking glasses from earlier in the day. He heard the bar stool next to him squeak as it moved a little ways across the floor so she could place herself in the seat.

"I'd like to talk to you," she spoke prompting his head to turn and their eyes to lock in a heated gaze.


	5. Knockout, Part II

**Title:** Trying to Find a Light

**Rating:** T-M, depending on the chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters, names, places, anything from World Wrestling Entertainment Inc. I do not own any songs that come up in this story, they are chosen from shuffling my iTunes or one that simply pops into my head. Those will be the chapter titles in case there is any confusion.

**A/N: **I think this is the farthest I've gotten on any story I've ever written. I hope I can keep it going for you guys. Thank you so much for the reviews, please continue to do so. Also, check out my Punk/AJ fic "All Fall Down."

* * *

"_I'd like to talk to you."_

By the way the sentence sounded coming out of her mouth she must have practiced saying it to herself over and over again before daring to say it in front of him. That was something that always vexed him about people. They could never be themselves, especially around him, and why should they? He was the most fearsome being in all of existence.

His physical appearance alone sent people in the other direction with its sheer size and overabundant amount of muscle. He preferred it that way, truthfully. But when someone came around him repeating lines they had to rehearse to themselves because he was so menacing it infuriated him.

He didn't look at her. Simply left her wondering if he'd even heard her, so she began to speak not caring if he'd acknowledge her existence at some point.

"I want to know why you did it." Her voice altered this time, speaking with conviction rather than rehearsal.

He still refused to glance her way and focused on his drink in front of him. Staring as if it were the most interesting thing in the room, "Did what?" He replied taking a drink of the bitter liquid, still refusing to look in her direction.

"Tonight…what-what you did tonight." She stated, working to keep her composure. It was hard since she was clearly barking up the wrong tree demanding answers from Brock Lesnar, the most feared man to step into a ring with, let alone a conversation.

But she had to remain determined, she wanted answers and damn it she would get her answers.

"What exactly did I do?" he asked.

Her eyes narrowed at his sarcastic reply, "Look," she began taking in a heavy breath, "I know that I'm not exactly high priority on your list of people to talk to but could you do me the courtesy of not being disingenuous when I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you."

Brock smiled, still not facing her general direction. He just sat there with a grin on his face staring at the almost empty glass he held up at eye-level, gently swirling its contents.

She couldn't help but take in his smile. It matched his built physique as well as his personality, big. Everything about this man was big. Not in a terrible way of course, she had to clarify to herself, he was strong and confident. It was fascinating to her.

"And I'm seriously asking," came his smartass reply, "What. Exactly. Did. I. Do."

He had to admit it was enjoyable to watch as he pushed her buttons just a little and he knew he did. Stealing a glance in his peripheral vision he saw her hand on the bar, once laying flat, contracted into a fist causing her knuckles to whiten.

Her reply came almost breathless, she was clearly losing patience. "Your F5 to John. Why did you F5 John?"

Downing the remainder of the liquid in his glass he sighed in content, placing it close to edge toward the bar back. Finally he looked at her. His eyes roamed for a moment over her figure studying her.

She was wearing a tight black hoodie that showed off a bit of her stomach. Her legs were clad in a pair of dark washed jeans, making the stems seem longer than the ring gear shorts she'd been sporting the last few times he saw her. Her golden locks were still loose in delicate waves and her makeup remained the same.

She was a vision but he knew her type.

Finally he brought his eyes back to lock with her hazel ones and spoke matter-of-factly, "I hit Cena with the F5 to send a message."

It wasn't that the answer was cryptic or threatening to her, it was more the fact that there seemed to be an underlying meaning to it in her mind. So she decided to dig further.

"Which is?"

_That you don't hurt a woman._ As soon as the thought entered his head he mentally shook it out. No, that wasn't the reason.

"That his days on top are numbered," he said proudly, "He's too far up on his pedestal and clearly needs to be taken down a few notches."

"Because you're Brock Lesnar…"

Her response surprised him but he nodded in agreement, "Yes, because I am Brock Lesnar."

Kelly sighed heavily and hung her head. Everything was always too good to be true.

"Why did you think I'd do it?"

Her eyes began to water but she willed them back as best as she could. She would not appear weak in front of this man. She would not appear weak in front of another man again. It was unacceptable.

She lifted her head, meeting his hard gaze once more, "I just…I just thought that…that after what you saw…"

"What did I see?"

Not anticipating the action, Brock was slightly startled when she pounded her fist on the bar loudly causing the wood to creek.

"Stop patronizing me!" She all but screamed.

For a split second he looked passed her to Erika trying to see if she noticed the action. If she did, there was no indication when her eyes met his for a second. She didn't seem surprised at all, causing Brock to return his gaze to the blonde as she continued.

"I'm embarrassed by what happened and I don't need you to be an asshole and play dumb," she seethed, "I know you saw what happened the day before Wrestlemania and I know you didn't just come back to the company on a whim."

"You're right," he interrupted, her eyes widened, "I came back when I saw an opportunity and that opportunity presented itself when the Rock defeated Cena."

He turned his attention to the bottles lining the back of the bar, finding it more appealing than the diva with the wild imagination.

"My mistake," she admitted standing, "I mistook you for someone who gave a damn and didn't lie to themselves."

Shocked at her response he turned his attention back to her cold eyes. Suddenly they softened. If her response didn't shock him enough, her next move did.

She moved close, closing the distance between them and brought her mouth to his ear where only he could hear, "Thank you," she whispered. He gasped inwardly as he felt something soft against his cheek.

Her lips.

It was short, tender. She brought her face back in front him giving one last gaze, the corner of her mouth turning up a little as she walked away.

He was officially mind fucked.

A whistle sounded from the other side of the bar, "Wow," Erika stated, "looks like things just got a little more interesting for you big guy."

He didn't face her, didn't even acknowledge he heard her.

"Free advice," she offered, "that one's going to be good for you."

"What makes you such an expert," he questioned, raising his tone and turned to face her with an angry expression.

"Cause if she's making you react like this then there's no telling what else she could make you do."

"I'm not reacting in any way," he said through gritted teeth.

Erika just smirked, "Yeah, okay. But based on what I just heard," she put another drink in front of him, he didn't even notice she'd made one. He was far to occupied. "It would do you a world of good to be honest with the girl…better yet," she paused, "It would do you one better to be honest with yourself."

Brock wasn't sure what surprised him more, Erika's words, or Kelly's intimate action.

"On the house," she said tapping the bar next to his drink, "I haven't had this much fun at work in awhile."

HA!


End file.
